


Monster Factory

by cactibarber



Category: Monster Factory - Polygon (Web Series), My Brother My Brother and Me (Podcast), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Gen, Its mainly just descriptions of the monsters though!, Just in case since it is based off of Monster Factory, M/M, Please Let Me Know What You Think!, all crack no bones about it, also im writing this before tma 160 comes out, also the crosstalk is insane in this, i had no clue what the tone of this was gonna be, inspired by the three (3) crossover fics i found, overuse of hyphens, slight body horror, so if anything bad happens in 160 im ignoring it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-01-13 02:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactibarber/pseuds/cactibarber
Summary: The McElroys have a bad vacation in London. Jon reaches the limits of his compel.





	1. Crosstalk

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Teens are very much into the following:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615391) by [EgNogg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgNogg/pseuds/EgNogg). 

> i can't believe i wrote this, but i'm committed now.  
also this is absolutely inspired by the three mbmbamxtma crossovers i found!

Jon tapped his fingers on his desk slowly, while he listened to the clock behind him tick on. Slowly. So, _so _slowly. He sighed, trying to relax his shoulders past their usual home of “right near his ears”. His boredom started to reach and stretch into that little part of his mind that could See™, but he quickly sucked those boredom tendrils back in.

After his “encounter” with Peter Lukas, nothing much had happened in the institute. Elias had disappeared after his brief meeting with him in the Panopticon, Basira had returned with a slightly more aggravated than usual Daisy in tow, and life at the Magnus Institute had gone back to whatever semblance of normal it had had beforehand. And it was driving Jon insane. He was constantly worrying about where Elias was, if Julia and Trevor were still staking out the institute, and what if Peter Lukas hadn’t been lying about the Extinction, and he was just about to miss the ritual- 

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and Jon looked up quickly. Martin’s round, perpetually slightly worried face peeked through the crack in the door. Jon looked up and smiled, shoulders dropping at least halfway back to their anatomically correct position. “Martin,” he said excitedly. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, Jon,” Martin replied. He nervously tapped his fingers against the doorframe, looking as if he had marbles in his mouth, and he was rolling them around trying to find the right one.

“We’re still on for tonight, if that’s what you were wondering,” Jon said hurriedly. “Unless-”

“Oh, no- that’s not what I was here to talk to you about,” Martin interrupted. “I mean that’s good-”

“Great, then-”

“Well, there’s another- thing- that’s come up,” he finished. 

“Oh lord,” Jon groaned. “Is it those two again? We should make sure Daisy and Basira know, and get ready to pull the fire alarm-”

“No, no,” Martin interrupted again. “It’s not them, but Rosie said we might have to watch out for anyone taking the east route since it’s full of alleys that they could be hiding in, but that’s not the point.” Martin drummed the doorframe again, taking a second before he said, “Someone wants to give a statement.”

Jon’s reaction was immediate- his shoulders shot up and he slumped in his chair, trying to make himself smaller than he already was. But his eyes seemed to light up, with a ferocity only seen in wild animals and slighted moms at soccer games. “Martin, you know I can’t- I said I wouldn’t- not to another person. Especially after-”

“Yes, I know, and I told them that I could take the statement for them, but the older one started talking about “taking it to the top”, and, well, I feel that, well, I think that we might need a little help from the Eye.”

“What does that even mean- wait. The older one, as in, there are multiple people trying to give a statement?”

“_tmfhree_.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, three. Three people are outside waiting to get their collective statement taken.” 

Martin quickly slipped into Jon’s office and shut the door to keep the very loud curse Jon let out inside. 

“Come on, Jon. It won’t be so bad. You might not even have to compel them or anything-”

“Oh, I won’t have to compel them? That makes it so much better, Martin, that I don’t _have _to compel them. It’s not like you’re basically showing me, no, giving me, a five-course meal when I’m on a diet-”

“Jon-”

“And I know that when- if- I give in, everything will be ruined again. And- and I’ve been making progress, I _swear_, and-”

“Jon.” Martin brought his hands down on Jon’s shoulders heavily. Jon shakily breathed in, grounding himself through the added weight, and the warmth of Martin’s hands. “Look at me.” When Jon refused to look up from the hole he was drilling into the table with his eyes, Martin gently cupped his chin and raised his head to meet his eyes. “If you really don’t want to take their statement, you don’t have to. I’ll do my best, or get Rosie to send them along. But, their situation is a bit immediate, and they need help. And I know, that you’re worried about what happened before, but I trust you to, you know, rein yourself in.” 

Martin suddenly realized the position he was in, and flushed red, quickly trying to extract his hand from its position on Jon’s face, but Jon moved quicker, pressing his own hand into Martin’s. “Okay,” he muttered quietly. “I’ll do it.”

A slight smile spread across Martin’s face, and he rubbed his thumb in circles on Jon’s scarred skin. “Okay,” he said softly. Martin reluctantly pulled his hand away and moved toward the door. “By the way, if you do scar or retraumatize them awfully, you shouldn’t worry about them too much.” Martin opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “They’re Americans.”

* * *

Jon shifted in his chair, waiting for his customers? Patients? To step in. He caught a tape recorder in the corner of his eye, and moved to grab it and place it in the center of his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to seem a bit more professional, he thought, as he willfully ignored the state that his office was in. He heard multiple voices and what sounded like the footsteps of a monster with thirty feet coming down the hallway. “Come in,” he said sharply, before Martin could knock on the door. 

Martin opened the door and let in three men in their early 30’s. The contrast between them startled Jon, and it took a while to let the wild picture in front of him sink in.

The tallest man had bright purple hair and a beard, and what looked like eyeliner behind his glasses. He was wearing what could only be described as a cowboy shirt, and the look was completed with his dark brown cowboy boots. The oldest looking of the three was wearing a garishly neon Hawaiian shirt with a bright green fanny pack, with some weird designs on it. The shortest and youngest-looking looked like he could work in the financial department of the institute. He looked absolutely normal. No, not normal- boring. 

But that wasn’t the whole deal. Because each one of these men was talking. Whether they were talking to each other or to Martin or Jon or just to thin air was incomprehensible, and Jon felt a migraine coming on. 

“So you’re the big boss, right? The big dog of this little establishment,” the purple-haired man said.

“Well-” Jon started.

“C’mon Trav, the big boss boy wouldn’t have this small of an office,” the Hawaiian shirt man interrupted. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your office,” he said quickly. “It’s homey and cozy in here but I would expect-”

“A penthouse office in the middle of Central London?” the youngest one interjected. “Are you kidding me? How many stories did you see on the building when we walked in, Justin?”

“How many stories a building has has nothing to do with it, Griffin! I”m just saying that-”

“That you’d expect a weird cryptid magic institution to have nice offices? This is probably one of their front offices, and they have the nice ones, you know with the haunted stuff and ghost circles and-” The purple-haired man broke off and turned to Jon. “Not that we have anything against haunted stuff or ghost circles, but-”

“But that’s not what we’re here about, we discussed this, that we weren’t gonna get sidetracked and now look at you trying to get a job here-”

“I’m not trying to get a job here, I’m just saying-”

Jon desperately looked up at Martin, pleading with his eyes for him to stay. Martin smiled, a little too cruelly for his liking, and waved to Jon as he left, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

“Gentlemen,” Jon began, raising his voice over the din. “Please- can we start with names?”

“Oh, of course,” the oldest one said, pushing the other two over to the chairs in front of Jon’s desk. “We’re the McElroy brothers-”

“You might have heard of us from our great bits in Trolls 2,” the youngest one said brightly.

“Trolls World Tour, Griffin, I told you. And I don’t think he’s even watched Trolls 1 so-”

“How would you know that? You don’t know him, he might be the biggest Trolls fan in England-”

Jon cleared his throat, and when it didn’t stop the deluge of conversation, cleared it again. By the time the three men heard him, it sounded like he was trying to hack out a hairball. “Gentlemen-”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” the older man said, shooting the other two a dirty glare. “Like I was saying, we’re the McElroys- I’m Justin McElroy, and these are my two dipshit brothers Travis,” he said, pointing at the purple-haired man, “and Griffin.”

“You didn’t let us introduce ourselves,” Travis pouted. He turned to Jon. “We have this thing we like to do, and I get to say that I’m the middlest-”

“That doesn’t _matter _Travis, we’re not recording an episode of the fucking podcast,” Griffin said exasperatedly. “Sorry for being blue, but we’re here to talk about some real nasty _shit_,” he said, whispering the last word. 

Jon took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “Yes, what _are_ you here to talk about? Martin said it was rather urgent.” 

For once, there was silence in the room, as the three brothers shared glances. The silence went on for a bit too long, until Griffin elbowed Justin in the side. “Ow- I guess since my brothers have decided that they have lost all use of their vocal cords, which is great for our careers, by the way, that I’ll explain.” Griffin rolled his eyes and Travis stifled a giggle. 

Jon, out of habit, reached to turn on the tape recorder, and was only mildly surprised to see that it was already running. Maybe there was a statement here after all. “What is this regarding?” he asked seriously, willfully ignoring the glances at the outdated technology.

“Well,” Justin started, “it’s about, I mean it’s a bit hard to explain.” He stopped abruptly and ran his fingers through his hair. “We-”

“We saw our video game monsters last night,” Griffin interrupted.

Jon sighed, deeper and fuller than he had ever sighed before. “Statement of the…McElroy brothers, regarding,” another deep, deep sign, “video game monsters come to life. Statement recorded direct from subjects, 1st October, 2018. Statement begins.”


	2. Big Yartz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The McElroys run into a stranger who looks strangely like a late great character actor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've fallen headfirst into this and i think it's going to be longer than i thought. which is good!!

Justin cleared his throat and began. “Well, we were thinking about going on vacation, so we were waiting until we had some free time-“

“Not that we work hard,” Travis interrupted. “Not like you guys with your files and- are those tape recorders?”

“And we then we all got sick for like two weeks, so we figured we needed a break,” Justin finished. “So we wanted to go to Europe-“

“Gotta get out of the states, you know. It’s uhhh not great right now,” Griffin said. “And-“

“And we _decided _on London. You know, to- tae sae Bahg Baen,” Justin said, in what Jon guessed was an atrocious attempt at a Scottish accent. The voice didn’t go unnoticed, however, as the two brothers pounced immediately.

“No, no, no it’s Boig Boin-“

“Bae Baen-“

“Beyblades? Are you talking about fucking Beyblades, Travis?”

Jon rubbed his temples and resisted the urge to shout down the hall for Martin- hell, maybe Daisy or Basira could help scare them into giving a proper statement. He had to admit, he was a bit confused with what was going on- usually when people gave a statement, it was in a more listenable way, getting rid of all the feelings (and trauma) that clouded the statement. But these brothers sat in front of him, seemingly rambling about some _thing _that had happened to them, and they didn’t seem to care at all. 

Jon attempted to focus back in to the conversation. The brothers seemed to be arguing about whether the Dick Van Dyke accent from Mary Poppins counted as a real English accent.

“-and the whole movie takes place in London, _Griffin_, so what I don’t know why you would think that it didn’t count-”

“Oh, just because the _movie _takes place in _London_, huh Travis? So if I started talking about ‘puttin it on the barbie’ in Niu Yawk-”

“Gross, Griffin, what are you putting on the barbie?”

“Yeah, c’mon Griff.”

“Gentlemen,” Jon said firmly, a faint crackle of compulsion in his voice. The McElroys sat up straight, as if shocked by lightning. “Please. Continue.”

Justin’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he started speaking again. “Well, the point is that we ended up taking a trip to London town-”

“Something no-one but our dad says,” Griffin muttered under his breath.

“-and we were out at one of the pubs here, having some drinks after our flight landed.”

“It ended up just being us three, since our wives decided to stay in the states because of all the traveling we’ve been doing recently. My wife, Teresa, in particular-”

Jon stubbornly ignored the chorus of “My wife” that erupted around the room. Justin’s face was beet red from trying not to laugh at his own joke, while Griffin looked at him, stonefaced and shrugging. Jon was surprised that his compulsion seemed to be wearing off almost immediately. At this point, he was wondering if he was going to be more hungry after this statement than he was before it.

“_Anyway _it’s just us in London right now. So we were in a bar-”

“Pub-”

“And we were leaving around 1 AM? We were pretty, uhh, out of it-”  
“Drunk- we don’t have to leave a good impression on this guy, Justin, we’re just telling him about how we saw Daz,” Griffin corrected. 

“I’m getting to it,” Justin said, glaring at Griffin. He turned to Jon, holding his hands out in a “see-what-I’m-dealing-with” position. “Daz is, well, I mean, I’m getting to it.”

“We were leaving the pub-bar, and we were slightly stumbling to the street. Not like falling down drunk, but definitely tripping every few steps drunk,” Justin continued. “Travis was the worst off since he tried to drink a cocktail with a pie slice on top of it-”

“It was definitely worth it,” Travis said, pulling out his phone. “Let me show you a picture-”

“And when we were outside of the bar-pub, we heard someone ask if we had a cigarette.”

“Was he in the alley?” Jon asked, startled. This story was starting to sound shockingly familiar. If the angler-fish was active again, then it mean that the Stranger had already recovered from their attempted Unknowing.

“Yeah!” Griffin chimed in. “He was leaning against the wall like a gangster from the 60s. Have you seen Grease? Because he looked like-”

“Griffin, I swear to god, if you are going to say that Daz looks like John Travolta from Grease,” Justin exasperatedly interrupted. “Then I will be forced to-”

“I meant his posture, Juice,” Griffin said, rolling his eyes. “Y’know, one leg up like a fuckin’ cool guy.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes someone cool, Griff,” Travis laughed. “One leg up means a fuckin’ cooooool guy.”

Justin raised his voice over Griffin and Travis’ laughter. “The guy in the alley was in the shadows at first, so we couldn’t see him. None of us had any little, uh, smoke sticks on us, so we said no and were about to walk away.” 

Griffin and Travis erupted into another round of laughter at Justin’s choice of words. When he was sure all three of them were distracted, Jon allowed himself a little smile.

“But the guy didn’t give up,” Justin continued, getting a little solemn. “He stepped a little out of the shadows and we were able to see him a little more clearly.”

“He looked like a normal dude at first. Like anyone you would see on the street,” Travis said, picking up where his brother had left off. “But as he kept getting closer, he felt, ummm, I guess off is the best way to put it?”

Griffin let out a bark of laughter. “Really, Trav? Is that the best you, a New York Times best-selling author can do?” Griffin put on a voice that Jon guessed was one crafted and honed over many years with a singular purpose of annoying his brothers. “Oh yeah, man he felt like, off I guess? I dunno, I haven’t learned anything past o in the alphabet.” 

Justin burst into laughter as Travis pouted. “You describe him then, Griffin! Sorry I wasn’t trying to be all poetic and shit like in one of your cutscenes-”

“Hey, my cutscenes aren’t just poetic. They’re masterpieces in literature.”

Travis rolled his eyes at that and flipped Griffin off, which Griffin responded to by sticking his tongue out. Jon Saw™ a brief flash of hours upon hours of family dinners, many of which had gone the same way, and felt the chill in the back of his spine start to dissipate. 

“I’ll give it a crack, though,” Griffin said. “I thought it was pretty clear why he looked _off_. He was too smooth.”

Jon took a bit longer than it should have to process that statement. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, I guess specifically his face was too smooth,” Griffin explained. “Like it would have been as if he did one of those Korean face mask treatments, but every day, since he was a baby.” 

“How would you even put one of those on a baby?” Justin mused, leaning back in his chair. 

“I bet you’d have to cut one of them up,” Travis answered. “Unless-”

“Unless-” Justin and Griffin answered back, almost immediately. Jon felt like he was watching a play at this point.

“Unless that’s our next business idea for when we get back! Baby face masks!” The three of them laughed heartily, only stopping to chant in unison, “TM TM TM.”

“But that’s what I meant!” Griffin said, trying to get back on track. “His nose was slightly crooked, but his skin was so smooth, it looked like it was merging back into his face. His mouth was stretched out until it was like the width of his face, and, it wasn’t like it was in the wrong place, it looked like it was supposed to be there. He had these black spots all over his face, but they didn’t look like birthmarks or anything, it was like those parts of his face were, I don’t know, sunken, but still, they were so smooth. Everything about his face was so rubbery and plasticky, I mean it was like-”

“Like he wasn’t a real person,” Jon finished. There was a silence in the office that hadn’t been there since the McElroys had walked in. 

“Yeah,” Justin said, breaking the awkwardness. 

“How did you know he was, what was the phrase you used, a video game monster?” Jon asked curiously. 

“Well, we do this Youtube series called Monster Factory,” Justin explained. “And by me, I mean me and Griffin, because Travis is too busy trying to get into Supernatural or whatever-”

“It’s going to happen!”

“And one of the monsters we made was based off of late great character actor Dennis Farina.”

“Who-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Griffin said hurriedly. “I didn’t know who he was either, and I was in the video with him.”

“Well we took a facescan of Dennis Farina in some golf game and we really messed him up. I mean like, really rogered him right up. Actually,” Justin pulled out his phone and showed Jon a picture of a video game character mid-golf swing that did look “real rogered up”.

“So when he came up to us and asked us for a cigarette again, we got a better look at him in the light. His hair stood out too- it was all blocky instead of smooth like his skin. Like it was low-res,” Griffin said.

“And everyone knows, your hair doesn’t look like your skin,” Travis told Jon, in a faux-educational voice.

“_And_,” Griffin said pointedly, “his head was moving.”

“Moving?”

“Like he was- like he was breathing through his head. It was pulsing, like really slowly, but I definitely saw it.” Griffin shuddered. “Honestly- one of the top ten grossest things I’ve ever seen.”

“What about what happened today with the bugs and Slime-” Justin asked. 

“Top ten means that there are other events on there,” Griffin said. “The use of the number ten instead of-”

“How did you get away?” Jon interrupted. This didn’t sound too much like the anglerfish since it could move around, but it still gave off hints of the Stranger. And if it was-

Travis muttered something under his breath, and Griffin elbowed his side. “I said, I yartzed on him,” Travis said reluctlantly, as Griffin stifled some laughter.

Jon shook his head slightly, as if trying to dislodge some rocks from his ear. “I’m sorry?”

“I yartzed! I threw up on his shoes, and we kind of just ran. We would’ve paid him for his shoes-”

“You would’ve,” Justin said, crossing his arms.

“But we were all kinda drunk, and he was really, _really _creepy. Y’know. Off.”

Jon sat up a little straighter, running a hand through his hair. “You… threw up. On the shoes of something that you don’t even think was human.” 

“I mean, we didn’t say that yet,” Griffin said, jumping in. “Butttttt yeah. That’s pretty much what happened.”

“Things were pretty buckwild that night,” Justin said brightly. “But I mean that’s nothing compared to what happened earlier today.”

“Today- what do you mean today?” Jon said, confused. “Did something else happen?”

The McElroys looked at each other, each mentally telling the other to speak. Travis lost, sighing and saying, “Yeah, we saw another one of them today. And-and that’s why we’re here! Because-”

“Well, we want to stop seeing them, for one,” Griffin said. “But also, if this is some sort of weird nightmare hell realm pattern thing, where we keep seeing them, there’s one character we reallly, really don’t want to run into.” 

Jon gripped the table, as he Saw™. “The Final Pam.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh you know jon wants those found family vibes
> 
> also! if you haven't watched monster factory before, here is the video this chapter is based on! https://youtu.be/wWOVS0XQmPM 
> 
> thanks so much for all of your support! love y'all!


	3. Man of Slime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The McElroys watch a makeup infomercial. Jon gets outvoted.

“Thanks, Martin,” Jon said gently, as he took the steaming cup of tea from him. The recording session had decided to take a bit of a pause, as Jon had needed a break from the incessant talking, and the McElroys had wanted to "fill up the ol’ engine”. 

“It’s not like our entire job is talking for long amounts of time,” Griffin had said over his shoulder as his brothers pushed him out of Jon’s office. “Buuuttttt, you know, you gotta do what you gotta do. And we gotta do an entire tray of fash aynd chaps.” All three of them had exploded into laughter as they left, causing more than a couple of financial department workers to look at them in confusion. Jon guessed it might’ve been the fact that there was laughter in the Archives, but it could also have been due to the brothers loudly discussing if any of the nearby fast-food restaurants had any “possible content for a future Munch Squad”. 

“So?” Martin asked, the question and the warm hand he laid on Jon’s shoulder jolting him out of his recollection. “Got a migraine yet?”

Jon groaned. “I’m almost there. Were you listening outside of the door?”

“Of course I was. I have to say, their accents are-”

“Dreadful?”

“Well, I was going to say not that bad, really! I think, with a bit more practice, the older one- Justin? Could probably take over reading statements for you.”

Jon froze for a second, and then let out a chuckle, that turned into restrained laughter, and then into full-blown hysterics. Martin looked relieved that his joke had landed, and laughed along with him. Jon wheezed himself back to normal, clutching Martin’s arm for support. “Th-thanks,” he stuttered, wiping a small tear from his eye. 

“No problem,” Martin said, smiling. “But I did do a bit of research on them, you know, like in the old days.” Both of them felt the mood drop slightly as they remembered just who those old days had involved, but Martin pressed on. “I meant- they are who they say they are, at least. I don’t think anyone could impersonate them that well. And-and their videos are actually pretty funny! If you don’t imagine them, you know, coming to life and possibly killing all of us.”

“Well,” Jon sighed. “There’s nothing new under the sun.”

Martin scrunched his face up like he had bitten into a lemon. “I thought I was supposed to be the poet.”

“Guess I’ll be taking your job next, then.”

The two smiled at each other, and the silence was soft and comfortable.

And also immediately broken by the sound of Justin McElroy arguing for the inclusion of Powdered Donettes in the Library of Congress or “whatever y’all have here, I’m not picky.”

“Back to work, then?” Martin said, taking Jon’s now-room-temperature cup of tea. “I’ll get you another one.”

“Oh- you don’t have to,” Jon started, but Martin interrupted.

“Shh- I want to listen in on their statement,” Martin said, smiling mischievously. “I can’t let you have all the fun.”

“And what fun it is,” Jon grumbled. “Alright, I’ll see you in there then.”

* * *

“So where were we?” Justin said, stretching his arms above his head and tilting his chair back so much that Jon was sure he would fall.

“Slime Burger,” Travis answered, with a level of confidence that Jon saw as completely incongruous with the mouth-sounds that had just come out of his mouth.

“You absolute idiot. You complete fuckin’ moron,” Griffin spat, with faux-ferocity. “I won’t let you insult my dear boy Slime Burger like this.” He gestured at Jon, in a motion that looked more like the flaps of a dying bird than whatever Griffin thought it meant. “It was Freddy “Slimeburger” Jr.” Slime Burger would never do this to us.”

“Slime Burger’s a good boy,” Justin agreed, nodding. “It’s his impostor we saw taking over the hotel room.”

“Wh- how can you even tell the difference?” Travis asked. 

“You’re not his dad, so you will never know our secrets,” Griffin sniffed. 

Jon cleared his throat, for what must’ve been the hundredth time today. “Statement resumes,” he said, more for his benefit than for the already-running tape recorders. 

“So,” Justin started. “Like I said, we were in the hotel room.” 

“ _ The _ , because we had to split the hotel room since  _ someone _ -” Griffin said, in a petulant, little-brother tone.

“You don’t have to say  _ someone _ , we all know it was Justin.” 

“Oh sure, blame the guy making allll the arrangements for you assholes,” Justin said, flipping them both off. This threw his balance off slightly, and his chair tilted a little too far back. Travis threw an arm behind the chair to try and support it, while Griffin cackled, not moving at all to help. Once that whole ordeal was finished, Justin grabbed the table and flipped Griffin off with the force of both hands. Griffin just kept laughing like a hyena spirit had possessed him. 

“Thanks, Travis. My one real brother,” Justin said. “Now we’re almost even for you getting mad for me doing a hit-”

“Aw, man, I forgot about that! I should’ve let you fall,” Travis groaned. 

“Slimeburger,” Griffin coughed out between hysterics. “You gotta- the bugs,”

“Oh right, the bugs!” Justin said finally shifting his attention away from his brothers. 

“The bugs,” Jon said, cautiously.

“The buuugggssss,” Travis said, as if he was a ghost. 

“We were in our shared,  _ cost-efficient _ , hotel room,” Justin said, completely ignoring Travis. “Kind of just flipping through the channels. You know, channel surfing.”

“I’m sure they have channel surfing in England,” Travis said. “You don’t have to explain it to him-”

“They don’t,” Griffin asserted. “The television is an American invention that was never given to these naasty Brits. Not that I think you’re nasty,” he said hurriedly, as if remembering that Jon was in the room.

“No, no,” Justin said, delighted. “Please explain what you think about the nice  _ English _ man listening to us talk about monster.” 

“Yeah, c’mon Griffin, explain your true thoughts on this entire country that has let us in, and where we will almost definitely have live shows in at some point. Let’s part the curtain on this,” Travis added. 

“I mean,” Griffin said slowly, as a grin spread across his face. “I mean, let’s get  _ right  _ into this, right? Let’s really dig into the nitty gritty, South Park humor on what I  _ really  _ think about England, and its nasty, nasty-”

“Okay! The bugs!” Justin cried. “We were watching the TV when we got to an infomercial channel.”

“Speaking of infomercials,” Travis interrupted. Jon felt the headache starting to come on again at yet another interruption. “Do y’all get that one about Head-On here?”

“What,” Griffin said, dragging out each syllable. “The absolute fuck, are you talking about.”

“You know,” Travis said, putting on what Jon decided was his best movie trailer voice. “Head-On. Apply directly to the forehead.”

“I’ll put your head on,” Justin grumbled. “Onto the fuckin’ table if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“I’d like to see you try, karate boy,” Travis shot back.

“You know it’s tae kwan do, you piece of shit! I’ve kicked you on stage-”

“You mean you  _ tried  _ to kick me-”

“More tea?” Martin said, coming in the door with a tray of tea at just the right time.

“Thanks, Martin,” Jon said with relief. Martin slowly put the cups down around Jon’s desk, pretended to notice the carefully placed extra chair with surprise, looked around to see if anyone would object, and sat down next to Jon. 

Justin took a sip of tea, gingerly went to put it down on Jon’s desk, and suddenly noticed that there wasn’t a coaster. Jon secretly enjoyed the slight look of panic in Justin’s eye, as he ended up deciding to just keep holding the cup, temperature be damned. 

“So. The infomercial,” Jon said, prompting the brothers.

“It was one of those where they were trying to sell something to you live, and you’re supposed to call in the special number-”

“Do they even call those infomercials?” Griffin asked under his breath. Martin made eye contact with him and shook his head. Griffin almost started convulsing, trying to hold in his laughter.

“And they were trying to sell a makeup palette.”

“Which I was interested in,” Travis jumped in. Jon noted the eyeshadow around his eyes, which was a shade dark enough to rival Melanie’s.

“And the person who came out to present the  _ pretty mediocre _ -”

“You take that back!”

“Palette was- you know.”

“If you say  _ off  _ again, Justin, I swan to John-” Griffin shook a finger in Justin’s face, which he batted away.

“You don’t fuckin’ know what I was gonna say, fuck off!” Justin said dismissively. “Like I was  _ saying _ , he looked weird because he was completely  _ covered  _ in grime. You know, like someone who was trying to sell makeup wouldn’t have all over their grill.”

Travis choked on the sip of tea he was taking. “You noticed the grime first over the bright pink mustache?”

“I’m trying to paint a fucking word picture here, get off my dick!”

“Don’t forget about the stringy pink janitor hair-” Griffin added, leaning forward in his chair to mime a hair part.

“You got something against janitor hair?” Travis laughed.

“Oh, don’t get me  _ started _ ,” Griffin yelled. “Aw mannn, I can’t  _ stand _ when janitors have hair-”

Jon’s mental image of this man was starting to get more and more convoluted, as the brothers continued to add more and more details on what they found most important about this mysterious makeup man. He drummed his fingers on the table, Looking™ into what the man looked like. He did a mental double-take when he saw a man what did look like “stringy pink janitor hair”, covered in grime and dark freckles, with a protruding chin, and extremely dark eye shadow? normal shadows? over his eyes. The strangest part, which he was surprised the McElroys had not mentioned, was the-

“-polygonal skull, you know his very pointy and not smooth at all skull, Griffin, that was definitely the  _ defining characteristic _ .” 

“Oh yeah, Justin, uh huh, uh huh, let me just check your definition of defining because uhhhhh- it’s wrong.”

“And the, uh, the bugs?” Martin said, his voice cutting through the din. “Did he have bugs on his face or-”

“Oh no, the bugs were in our room,” Travis said matter-of-factly. “Yeah we forgot to bring it up but once the dude appeared on the screen-”

“All kinds of those gross ass creepy crawlies started coming out of the woodwork- and I mean literally out of the wood. And- and this isn’t a knock against people who clean hotels,” Justin said quickly, his brothers nodding in assent. “Because there were  _ way  _ too many bugs coming out of that bedframe that could ever have fit.” 

The mention of bugs made Jon look over at Martin, who had gone ever-so-slightly pale. Jon put what he hoped was a comforting hand on Martin’s leg, and Martin looked at him in relief, color returning to his face. 

“The guy- Slimeburger- he kept getting closer and closer to the camera,” Griffin said quietly. “And- and we started feeling sick.”

“Not sick, like we just did a sick trick,” Travis corrected. “But like a real rager of a headache-”

“And our stomachs started hurting-”

“Our one shared stomach, like a big cow-”

“If we shared one stomach, y’all would be in trouble,” Griffin said, in a sing-song voice.

Justin sighed. “Yes, yes, Griffin, we all know you have IBS.”

“And who’s fuckin’ fault is that?”  
Jon Saw™ many, many scenes of Griffin eating raw fettuccini out of a jar in what looked like a mediocre Italian restaurant, and made a mental note to tell Martin about it later, all while trying to stop his face from betraying him and laughing. 

He also Saw™, no, felt, what the McElroys had been feeling in that moment. And he knew the name of it.

“Radiation poisoning.”

The McElroys sat in stunned silence, while Jon turned the idea over in his head. Why would the Corruption deal with something so specific as radiation poisoning in this day and age?

“That makes sense!” Griffin said, interrupting the silence. “Slimeburger-”

“Ate everything in Wasteland!” Justin cried. “We gave him radiation poisoning so he gave it back. Et tu, brute.”

“You know that’s not how the quote is used, right J-man?” 

“Who are you, Shakespeare?” Travis retorted.

“The fuckin’ modern Shakespeare, yeah!” Griffin put his hand on his hips, and when it didn’t have the desired effect on the room, tried out a muscleman flexing pose, which cause Martin and Travis to snort. 

“Wait- so if it was radiation poisoning, are we like, fuuckked?” The McElroys looked at Jon with something almost approaching concern. 

“No,” Jon answered. “If this SlimeMan-”

“Slimeburger,” Griffin said under his breath.

“If this Slime _ burger _ is anything like our, well, encounter, with Jane Prentiss, then he would have to be in a closer range to have a larger effect.”

“How did you get away?” Martin leaned forward, eyes bright. “With Jane-”

“Was Jane a bug person?” Justin asked. “Just for future reference, y’know, in case we need to deal with this again.”

“That’s inconsequential. We need to know how- if you got away,” Jon said seriously.

“Dipped,” Griffin said, leaning back in his chair. 

“Excuse me?”

“We dipped,” Travis said. “Bailed right out of there. It was getting too wild for our tastes-”

“Not our kind of scene-”

“So we just ran away. If we’re going by horror movie rules, and I feel like we might be, we did get away before he climbed out of the screen like the- the- who’s the one with the long hair again?” Justin scratched his head, slightly frustrated.

“Rapunzel,” Griffin said, completely deadpan. 

The three brothers exploded into laughter, with Martin giggling along with them. Jon smiled wanly. If they had gotten away from the Corruption, it did mean that their hotel room wasn’t safe anymore, and they’d have to move. Which meant-

“Soooo, we were wondering if y’all had some sort of safe house orrr,” Travis trailed off, looking at Jon and Martin hopefully.

“You know, since we got told that you were the place to go for creeepy experiences,” Griffin added.

“Oh yes, I was meaning to ask you,” Martin said curiously. “How did you know to come to us- I mean, the Magnus Institute?”

“Heard about it on a podcast, like how we consume most of our media,” Griffin said offhandedly. “Gh-”

“Ghost Hunt UK,” Jon sighed. He didn’t know whether or not he would have to thank Georgie for this later. 

“That’s the one!”

“But, speaking of safe house,” Martin looked at Jon, trying to send a message with his eyes. Jon desperately tried to send back  _ nononono _ , but Martin winked at him instead, his mind obviously already made up. “You can stay with us for tonight! Jon’s been staying at my house for some uh- reasons-”

At that, Griffin let out a quiet, “Nice,” and Justin winked at- Jon couldn’t tell which one of them. Travis gave a thumbs up in general. Jon struggled to keep himself from explaining that, no, they were not living together  _ because _ they were dating, but because of the whole murder charges on his head. Well, maybe the murder charges were only 70% of the reason. 60%.

“-But you’re more than welcome to stay with us while we figure out your, uh, situation!” Martin said brightly. 

“Yesssss,” Griffin said, pumping his fist. “You know what this means!”

Jon knew the answer but refused to join in as the McElroys, and, for some reason Martin, chanted, “Sleepover!”

It was going to be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm giving martin what he deserves and it's joy  
give that boy some joy
> 
> EDIT: Thanks to Gazimon for letting me know that I meant "What the Ghost" instead of "Ghost Hunt UK"!!
> 
> Also, here are the relevant monsters: https://youtu.be/kQSp1iwgGjY


	4. Poison Nips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The McElroys and the Archive staff do some P.E..

“Is that everything?” Martin asked, hefting a messenger bag over his shoulder. The McElroys stood outside of the Magnus Institute, with one blue backpack shared between the three of them. The backpack was covered in what looked like cartoon characters with tiny smiling faces on them. 

“It’s our new merch,” Griffin had said, while he hovered over Jon and Jon’s little-used desktop. “You should give it a liiiittle bit of a check.” He had then refused to move from where he was boxing Jon in to his desk, until Jon had navigated (extremely slowly, and pecking at the keyboard, like the old man he was) to the site, assuring Griffin he would save it for Christmas.

“Welllll, we didn’t exactly have time to pack when we were running from Slimeburger,” Justin said, slightly bitter. “And all the fuckin’ worms and-”

“Buuuttt on the bright side, we have the most important things,” Travis said brightly. “Our-”

“Giant dongs-”

“Shitty, shitty souvenirs-”

“Passports-”

The brothers looked at each other for a beat, and then, in unison, started hysterically laughing. Justin’s face turned red as he began wheezing, and turned even more red as it became apparent he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“Oh geez,” Griffin panted. “He’ll probably be like that for a while.”

Martin grinned and shrugged. “That might be for the best. We’ve got a bit of a walk ahead of us.”

Jon poked his head back through the open gate to the street. “There aren’t any police around, so we should probably leave now.”

The group started off toward the main street, an airless Justin trailing behind, with Travis listing off other important objects they had with them to keep him in hysterics. Among those were their senses of pride, twenty extra pillows for Griffin, the bagel sandwich from this morning-

Griffin sped up his pace to catch up to Martin and his long legs. “Sooo, Martin, why are you and your, uh,  _ boss _ ,” Griffin whispered exaggeratedly, covering his mouth with his hand while Jon rolled his eyes and pretended not to see, “hiding from the fuzz? Not that we don’t appreciate the help, and we’re not a bunch of fuckin’ narcs, but-”

“We’re not exactly criminals back home,” Justin added, having finally caught his breath.

“Unless-” Travis broke in.

“Unless-” Griffin and Justin chorused. 

“Unless you count Griffin’s Amiibo Corner as a crime against all of humanity.”

Justin and Travis exploded into laughter, as Griffin pouted and all but stamped his feet. “C’monnn, I fuckin’ saved this empire with Griffin’s Amiibo Corner, and you motherfuckers know it!”

` Martin shot a questioning eye over at Jon, who shook his head firmly. Martin made a pouty face good enough to rival Griffin’s, and Jon started shaking his head even more. Martin frowned, and shot the killing blow, snatching Jon’s hand and squeezing gently. Jon’s steps faltered, and he sighed heavily. “Only for you,” he muttered. 

Jon Looked™ into what this Amiibo Corner was, and what he saw may have been as traumatizing, if not worse than being in the Lonely. He saw, in quick succession before he could shut his eyes, scene after scene of Griffin putting, no, stuffing little plastic cartoon characters into his mouth, stretching and pulling his face in unimaginable directions and dimensions. 

He shook himself out of it, glancing at the man whose image was irreparably changed in his mind. “So?” Martin whispered, nudging his arm. “What are they talking about?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Griffin might belong to the Spiral,” Jon said bitterly.

Martin let out a short laugh. “Wait, you’re not being serious, are you?”

“Let me just put it this way. He’s put a lot of things in his mouth that he definitely should not have.”

“What-”

A dark shape launched itself in front of them from a nearby alley, skidding to a stop. Martin quickly put an arm in front of Jon, while Justin grabbed his brothers’ arms and pulled them to a stop, a couple feet behind. The figure held up its hands, and reached up to remove their sweater’s hood, revealing a young woman with blood red eyes and teeth that seemed too big for her mouth.

“Daisy,” Jon gave a sigh of relief. “You scared the-”

“Shut up,” Daisy said curtly. “You’re being followed.” 

“We checked for the police,” Martin explained, a note of worry creeping into his voice. “But-”

“It’s definitely  _ not  _ the police. But we’ll need to run. Now.” Daisy cast her eye over the group, as if only now taking in how many people there were in front of her. “We’ll need to split up.”

“Not to interrupt, uh, whatever is going on here,” Travis said in a small voice. “But I think splitting up mightttt not be the-”

“Not now.” Daisy pointed at Justin and Griffin. “You two, go with Jon. Purple hair, you’re with me and Martin.”

“I’m not leaving Jon,” Martin said, voice bordering on indignation. “I can protect us both.” 

“Jon can take care of himself,” Daisy insisted. “ _ Besides _ , he’ll meet up with Basira, and she’ll protect them. We’re taking the long way.”

Jon’s face had turned pale, but he pushed up his glasses and let out a breath. “It’s fine. We should go now.” He turned back to Justin and Griffin. “Are you ready?”

“I haven’t run since the sixth fuckin’ grade,” Griffin groused. “But I’d also rather not beef it so-”

“Let’s go!” Daisy growled, grabbing Martin’s hand and pulling him forward. “We’ll meet you at the park near the lake.”

With that, Daisy, Martin, and Travis darted off through the alleys, while Jon, Justin, and Griffin ran to the nearest side street. Two shadows, one, tall and skinny, and one, extremely small, with a bushy tail and animal-like ears, watched the group split up, and then split up themselves, chasing them. 

* * *

As Jon ran through the side streets of London, he absent-mindedly noticed that he was less out of breath than he would have been before he had changed. The same couldn’t be said for the two McElroys following him, however. Justin had been stuck carrying their communal backpack, which was definitely weighing him down. Griffin was having a hard time running in a straight line, as he kept looking behind him to see if anything was there, terrified, and forgetting to watch where he was going. 

“Are you— fucking— kidding me,” Griffin coughed out, knocking into a rogue trash can. “How much— further?”

Jon turned back to respond, but froze, as he saw a small shape jumping from balcony to trash can to overturned crate behind them. The shape would pounce, landing on four legs, while what looked like a tail moved back and forth behind it, keeping its balance. 

Justin followed Jon’s horrified gaze behind them and stumbled immediately. “Fuck— it’s Rat Baby,” he stuttered, gripping onto Griffin’s shoulder for stability. “ _ God _ damnit.”

Jon was about to question the extremely weird name, when the creature was suddenly illuminated in a ray of sunlight. The creature was actually what looked like a small girl, but her head was the size of her entire torso. Her bronze eyes were sunken in, and huge in her skull, while her mouth protruded out of the very bottom part of her face. Even larger than her head and her giant white Leia buns, were two enormous white ears, that flapped in the wind with every jump she made. Rat Baby had a huge white squirrel-like tail, that twitched and curled in the wind, and that Jon wanted to stay completely in the dark about.

“Shit, shit, shit,” chanted Griffin. “Should we- should we fight? I don’t think I could take out a normal rat, let alone a rat baby-”

“I’m gonna rip you open from the inside!” screamed a high pitched, warbling voice from behind them. “Gonna wake you up!” Rat Baby shrieked, as she jumped from trash can to trash can. “Gonna-”

“That’s quite enough of that,” a calm voice said from in front of them. A loud bang erupted, and a dark shape flew overhead, landing square onto Rat Baby.

“A net, Basira?” Jon panted. “A bit primitive, don’t you think?” 

“Shut up,” Basira said dryly. “You owe me another one.”

“As always. I’ll add it to the list.”

A furious, shrill scream erupted from behind them, as Rat Baby twisted and clawed to get her way out of the net. “Uhhhh, guys?” Griffin turned back toward the group. “We might wanna-”

“Let’s go!” Basira called, already a couple steps ahead of them. 

Justin groaned, and pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on. “Can’t y’all just, I don’t know, decommission it or whatever you guys do?”

“Do you really think that would work?” Jon shot back, receiving only another groan in response. 

“Come on, or I’m leaving you here!” Basira shouted. 

“Let’s hustle, Juice, c’mon!” Griffin pulled his brother forward, as the group started running again. 

* * *

“Remind me of your name again?” Travis asked Daisy, apparently trying to make polite conversation while they were being chased by an enormous shadow. 

“What?” she said, startled. “Are you seriously asking-”

“Just go with it.” Martin wiped a drop of sweat from his brow. “You’ll get used to them soon enough.”

“Heyyy, get used to what?” Travis sulked, as much as one could sulk while running throuhg a dark and dirty alleyway. 

“Nothing,” Daisy rasped, glancing quickly behind them. The large shadow they had spotted following them seemd to have gotten closer, but somehow the shadow hadn’t changed size at all. 

“Is this one of yours?” Martin asked Travis quickly. He desperately cast his mind through the list of the entities, trying to figure out if this was someone they had encountered before, if they could negotiate, if they could-

“I’m not the one making the videos!” Travis shouted back. “Well, I’m in some of the videos, and I watch them before they get released but-”

“That’s not the answer to the question,” Daisy growled. 

A guttural snarl answered them. “It’sssss Succotashhhh.”

Panicked, Martin looked behind them to see an absolute monster of a man. Succotash was pale as a sheet, and close to ten feet tall, with arms the size of clubs. His combination of being shirtless, having a bright pink afro, and an equally bright and pink mustache was strangely terrifying. The scariest part of Succotash was definitely his deep purple eyes, which seemed to spiral into themselves. 

The second Daisy saw him, her face froze into a snarl. “He’s like me,” she said roughly. 

“W-what?” Martin started to calculate his and Travis’s chances of escaping both Succotash and Daisy if it came down to it. If they were surrounded by the Hunt-

“Don’t worry about it,” Daisy said, as if she had read his mind. “I’m- I’m good. We just have to get out of here.”

“Hooold onn, what?” Travis questioned. “I feel like I mighttt be missing something.” 

“You are,” Martin agreed. “But we can explain everything later.” 

“Mmmmmm that makes sense. Doing the talking when we’re not being chased by a giant pink-haired monster is probably ideal,” Travis conceded. “But! I’m holding you-”

Martin ran into someone, bowling them over onto a patch of grass near the lake. “Shit-”

“Oh, hey guys,” Griffin’s pale face nonchalantly said from below Martin. “How’re y’all holding up? Because we’re definitely,  _ definitely _ still being chased by one of the fuckin’ Chipettes.”

“Martin,” Jon said worriedly, as he pulled Martin back to his feet. “Are you-”

“I’m fine, but-”

“We’re still being followed,” Daisy said grimly. “And now we’re trapped by a lake. Great plan.”

“You came up with this plan,” Martin groaned, as he in turn, helped Griffin to get up, who was griping to his brothers about how they should make slower monsters next time. 

“Yeah, whatever. Get ready.” Daisy moved to stand in front of them with Basira. “You okay, babe?”

“Of course,” Basira responded, squeezing Daisy’s hand. 

Their preparations were interrupted by what could only be described as a squelching sound from behind them, in-

“Fuck fuck fuck the lake,” Justin panicked, moving to draw his brothers behind him. 

“What the fuck is that thing?” Basira shouted, pulling out her real gun this time. 

Martin gritted his teeth, and attempted to move in front of Jon, who was already trying to move in front of him, so they ended up bumping into each other. 

That thing was actually two separate things riding on each other. One was moderately humanoid, with the exception of its pale blue skin, and what looked like crab claws in place of its hands. Unfortunately, it also had nipples that looked like they were dripping out purple liquid. The closer the creature got, the more wrong it started to look. The flesh the blue creature was made out of was both fleshy and rubbery, as its body undulated and squished in truly horrifying ways. Every time it was slightly jostled, its arms would slide up and down its body, and its torso would compress so much its head would squish past its neck. Its eyes were black voids, and its mouth gibbered a high-pitched squeal.

The blue creature was riding on a round purple creature, that seemed to be made out of the same sort of meat the blue one was made out of. That was where their similarities ended, however. The purple creature seemed to be made out of multiple spheres, and was on all fours. It had an extremely large, human mouth, with eyes that could only be described as Steve Buscemi-esque. It had arms sticking out of its head underneath bat-like ears, and in front of where the blue creature was sitting, had two feathery wings, which, despite appearances, was definitely also made out of that meat. Its body was smooth, but everytime it took a step, its entire body vibrated, moving every single leg when only one would do. The purple creature was also wearing a backpack.

“It’s Ja’am,” breathed Griffin.

Jon looked back at him to make sure he hadn’t lost his mind, but Griffin looked steadfast. 

“Which version?” muttered Justin. Griffin pinched his shoulder, hard. “Ow!”

“It does not fuckin’ matter which fuckin’ version of Ja’am it is,” Griffin growled, nervously looking at the creatures. “It’s not like we need to speak their name to unveil their true power.”

“What story are you even thinking of, Griffin,” Travis whispered. “Because if you’re talking about Rumpelstiltskin you are  _ super  _ wrong on how that story goes.”

“Like you’ve ever read  _ Rompelstaltskein _ , Travis, we all know you’ve got a real fuckin’ literary mind-”

“I definitely have read Rümpelstelstekin, Griffin, because I’m not six years old-”

A laugh from ahead of them stopped the conversation in its tracks. Succotash ducked out of an alley, slowly moving out from the shadows with Rat Baby perched on one of his shoulders. She swished her tail back and forth, laughing cruelly, as Succotash cast his eyes over each member of the group, swaying slightly in the breeze. “We’re gonna tear you apart!” cackled Rat Baby, as she scurried down Succotash like a large tree. “We’re-”

At the sight of the Ja’ams, Rat Baby froze, her pupils dilating to a thin circle of amber in a dark hole. She smiled, baring her teeth, and crouched down. “We’re going to destroy  _ them  _ first,” she clarified. “And then we’ll be coming after you.”

The blue Ja’am angled its face up toward the sky and let out an inhuman screech, which only Jon understood to be “You sure can give it a try”. At that, the purple Ja’am crouched down, and then, with immeasurable speed, launched itself at Rat Baby. He had another face on his ass, Jon noticed numbly. Succotash dashed forward at the movement and tried to grapple Ja’am. 

“Um,” Travis mumbled.

“Yeah,” Martin nodded his head slowly, and then extremely quickly. 

“Time to go. Until I see you again,” Griffin said, singing under his breath to what Jon recognized was one of those car movie songs. Justin elbowed him heavily. “Yeah, yeah.”

The group started to sidle away, except for Daisy, who was still stood in front of the lake, her shoulders hunched, and her eyes wide. She began to tense her body like a spring.

“Babe,” Basira said firmly, planting herself in front of Daisy to make eye contact with her. “C’mon. Sleepover time.” Basira took both of Daisy’s hands and shook them gently.

“....right.” Daisy shook her head and gave a slow smile. “Sleepover time.”

They snuck away under the sound of Rat Baby’s shrieks, Succotash’s growls, and the sounds of impacts against Ja’am’s weird meat. Martin started doing the mental math of how many spare pillows and blankets he would need to drag out of his storage closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter should def be the sleepover episode!! thanks for all your support! 
> 
> also- here are links to the relevant monsters:  
Rat Baby and Succotash: https://youtu.be/kT2Y6ftxilM  
Ja'am: https://youtu.be/_hH7vZF15SY  
And to those lucky few who haven't seen Griffin's Amiibo Corner yet: https://youtu.be/ZYespfZgeWQ


	5. Pillow Exoskeleton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew orders pizza. Justin gets protective. Jon gets a snack.

“Here we are,” Martin said tiredly, as he opened the door to his admittedly modest flat. “It might not be much but-”

“But it’s a place without things trying to kill us,” finished Justin, as he entered the room. “Which makes it pretty fuckin’ good.” 

“I would say that constitutes as more than pretty fuckin’ good,” Travis corrected. 

“Oh yeah, Trav? What’s more than pretty fuckin’ good?” Justin said crossly.

“Reeaaalllll good,” slurred Griffin as he collapsed onto Martin’s carpet. 

Justin nudged Griffin with his foot. “Can you behave like a fuckin’ adult?” he hissed. Griffin stuck his tongue out at him and scrunched his eyes. Justin looked like he was about to bring his foot down on top of him, when Travis interrupted by lying down next to him. 

“You can’t get both of us, Juice. I’m Spartacus!” Travis laughed, while Griffin snorted beside him. Justin responded by turning bright red.

“Would anyone like some tea?” Martin asked from the kitchen, interrupting the battle scene unfolding before him.

“Let me help you with that,” Justin said quickly, giving Travis one last poke in the side and Griffin a glare that could melt ice. Griffin pretended he was asleep.

“Thanks- Jon, could you grab the extra blankets from the closet?”

“Sure. Daisy, do you mind-”

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

The flat didn’t burst so much as drip into action, as Justin went to the kitchen to help Martin and Jon and Daisy headed to the hallway. This left Basira staring at a prone Griffin and Travis in Martin’s living room.

“....”

“....”

“....”

“Hi! I’m Travis McElroy!” Travis leapt to his feet and offered his hand to Basira. 

Basira took it, slighly hesitantly. “Basira Hussain. Nice to meet you.” 

“Griffin Mcelroy,” Griffin said from the floor. “thifryunerrfymdealoomnar.”

“Excuse me?”

“He said he’s a thirty under thirty media luminary,” Travis said offhandedly. “But he’s too old for it to count anymore.”

“Hey motherfucker, that shit is for life!” Griffin attempted a leg swipe to knock Travis down, that he sidestepped neatly. 

“...Nice to meet you, too.” Basira said. 

“Sorry I can’t shake your hand,” Griffin said apologetically. “But my legs are like fucking jelly since I just did more physical exercise in the last twenty minutes than I have in ten years-”

“You’re just a baby-”

“Fuck you-”

“Need any help, Daisy?” Basira called, stepping over Griffin into the hallway.

“Nope,” Daisy said, carrying a thick-looking blanket and a veritable mountain of pillows into the living room, while Jon trailed behind her, dragging a thin mattress pad on the floor. 

“So,” Martin began, bringing some tea into the living room. “We should probably figure out-”

“What exactly is going on?” Daisy asked, sitting down with Basira on the couch.

“I was going to say where we were all going to sleep tonight, but I guess that too,” Martin acknowledged. 

The institute crew turned as a group to look at the McElroys. Justin sighed. “We honestly don’t know.”

“We’re just here to have a good ol’ time,” Travis added. 

“A good ol’ time with the good ol’ boys,” Griffin said, with a pronounced Southern drawl that sounded more like he had marshmallows in his mouth. 

Jon sighed. “I haven’t heard anything about more than two entities working together before.”

Griffin mouthed  _ entities?  _ to Travis, who responded with a shrug.

“But they weren’t working together,” corrected Martin. “If that purple thing-”

“Ja’am,” Griffin interrupted.

“-was from the Flesh, and the other two-”

“Rat Baby and Succotash-” Justin elbowed Griffin, who rolled his eyes.

“-were from the Hunt, then they weren’t really working together.”

At the mention of the Hunt, Daisy sat up a little straighter, but relaxed when Basira started rubbing circles into her back. 

“Is it possible that there’s a ritual being attempted here?” Basira asked. “Some big thing-”

“It could be the Extinction,” Martin muttered. “But that goes against what Peter told me would happen-”

“Since when was Peter right about anything?” Jon rolled his eyes. “If it’s a ritual with multiple entities, then we should assume the Web is playing a part.”

“Sorry to interrupt this  _ wild  _ conversation,” Justin said, not looking sorry at all. “But could you fill us in on  _ anything _ y’all are saying?” 

“I dunno, I kind of like the mystery,” Travis fluttered his hands like a butterfly. “The prestigeeeee.”

“You have no fuckin’ clue what the prestige is,” Griffin said. “It looks like-” He started moving his hands like he was trying to shake off an invisible spider. 

“You dipshits,” Justin said fondly. “It’s-” Justin tried to do what he remembered of the Naruto jutsus, and ended up pulling one of his fingers by accident, causing the other two to double over in laughter.

Basira shot Jon a look that asked  _ does this happen often? _ . Jon responded by rolling his eyes, a clear  _ all goddamn day _ . 

“Anyways,” coughed Griffin, straightening up and clearing his throat. “What are these en-ti-ties?” He pronounced the word as an alien would approach it. “Do they have anything to do with why we keep seeing all this weird shit?”

“Probably,” Martin said. “There’s fourteen, well, maybe fifteen but-”

“Fourteen important ones,” Daisy interrupted. “They deal with fear.”

“So, the first  _ thing  _ you encountered was probably related to the Stranger,” Jon said, sitting back in the chair he had pulled in from the kitchen. “Since it was not-quite-human.”

“Don’t be rude to Daz,” Griffin pouted. “He may be a rude nasty boy, but-”

“But he did try and kill us,” Travis added.

“We don’t know that for sure!”

“The second one was with the Corruption,” Jon bulldozed on. “Bugs and rot and-”

“So gross shit,” Travis said. “Not a huge fan of that one.”

“Neither am I,” Martin sighed. 

“Wait, so you guys have met these things before?” Justin asked, confused. 

“Well, not really these specific ones, but really quite similar, and-”

“It’s complicated,” Basira said. “The  _ important  _ thing is-”

“We need to figure out why these entities are attached to you three,” Jon finished.

A silence settled over the living room.

“Well, that sucks.” Griffin said, shattering it into pieces, shrugging and taking a sip of tea.

“Aren’t you more concerned?” Basira looked at the brothers with a bewildered expression. “We just said that these things are attracted to you-”

“Can’t do anything about it,” Travis said matter-of-factly. “If you hotshots are confused-”

“What are we supposed to do?” Justin leaned back from where he was sitting on the floor. “We aren’t monster hunters like y’all.”

“We’re not monster hunters-” Martin said quickly, eyes darting to where Jon was sitting, tea untouched in his hands. 

“We’re monster...researchers,” Basira corrected, putting her hand on Daisy’s leg. Daisy leaned into the touch. 

“Ah,” Griffin said, enlightened. “Monster nerds. We’ve found your new job, Travis-”

“Just because I said  _ once _ that I think it would be cool to do research on Bigfoot-”

“You’re one to talk, Griffin,” Justin joined in. “Mister Oh, I want to do a whole podcast on fighting monsters in West Virginia.”

Griffin threw a pillow on the floor at him. “That was a joint idea, and you know it!”

“So, we don’t have any answers about that. What about the whole sleeping thing?” Daisy said, grabbing the pillow that Justin tried to retaliate with.

“I mean, I’ve only got the one bed,” Martin said. “I’ll probably share with Jon since-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Basira groaned. “Don’t start this shit again, Blackwood, we know-” Daisy rolled her eyes at Jon’s bright red face, and then winked at the McElroys, who started giggling. 

“We’ll take the living room floor,” Justin said brightly. “And the ladies can take the couch.”

“Since you guys, y’know, saved our lives today or whateverrrr,” Griffin said flippantly. Daisy let out a short bark of laughter, while Basira grinned. 

“Thank you for your consideration,” Basira said, standing up to stretch her arms. 

“Natch,” Justin gave them the double finger guns, which Daisy returned, confused. 

“Should we order some food?” Martin said, markedly happier than he had been when everyone had piled into his house. “I don’t really have any groceries to make anything.”

“I think I saw a pizza place when we were running here,” Basira said. “I’ll give them a call.” She pulled out her phone. “Nothing for you, Jon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jon said quietly. When the McElroys looked at him questioningly, he mouthed  _ it’s a long story _ , to which Griffin rolled his eyes as sarcastically as he could and Travis genuinely looked like he understood. Justin merely stared. 

Basira ordered pizza, getting two large pepperonis and a cheese, despite Justin’s silent attempts to signal for a chocolate and marshmallow pizza he had heard being advertised. Travis busied himself in the kitchen making a cocktail with Martin’s sparse ingredients, promising a “drink beyond your puny imaginations”, while Martin nervously stood watch behind him. Daisy and Griffin set up the blankets, in the living room, Griffin seemingly hoarding as many pillows as he could.

Jon sat in the living room, watching Martin’s apartment become busier than he had ever seen it before, pondering the events of today. It was possible that a ritual could collapse in on itself, like what Daisy had said about the Everchase, and how easily Lukas’ ritual had imploded. If this ritual needed all the entities like he suspected, then it was possible that all they would need to do was ride it out, and it wouldn’t come to fruition. But, he thought, that would involve the McElroys surviving all of this. And as Jon looked at the slight chaos unfolding in the living room, he couldn’t honestly predict if they could. 

“Do you really need that many pillows for just yourself?” Daisy asked, confused, as Griffin grabbed a fifth one. 

“I need them for my back-” Griffin started, before Travis called from the kitchen.

“Is Griffin trying to build his pillow exoskeleton again?” Laughter from Travis and Martin drifted into the living room. 

Justin grabbed one of the pillows Grifin had hidden under his blanket. “We need them too, Griff-”

“You can take them from my cold dead hands,” Griffin snarled, snatching it back and hiding it under his shirt. 

“Gladly,” Justin said, rubbing his hands and tackling Griffin to the ground. Over Griffin’s sounds of protest, Justin yelled, “You know this one’s mine, right Trav? You gotta work for your pillows!”

“No fair! I’m busy- yes, Martin, I won’t break this glass, promise-” a distant thunk, but not of glass shattering rang out from the kitchen. “See, it didn’t break-”

Daisy managed to pull out the pillow Griffin was hoarding while Justin was pinning him down, handing it off to Basira. “You’re right, Justin,” she said, passing the pillow off to Basira, who put it on the couch.

“You have to work for your own pillows,” Basira finished, grinning. Justin let out a wail of despair, flopping on the ground next to Griffin, who looked at him, betrayed.

Jon smiled. Even though this didn’t give him any confidence in the McElroys’ ability to survive any more entities, maybe there was  _ some  _ hope (with a big emphasis on some). And his last few years had almost exclusively run on hope.

* * *

“And that’s when he- say the nine words, c’mon-”

“Pleaseeeeeee!”

“I dropped a fidget spinner on my baby’s head,” Travis groaned, while his brothers collapsed into hysterics around him. 

Martin burst out into laughter, throwing his head back and consequently falling onto the floor, chest heaving. Daisy howled with laughter, clutching on to Basira for support, who was trying to hold back her laughter to question Travis on how exactly this could have happened. Jon Saw™ the event in question, and let out a low chuckle. The look on the baby’s- Bebe- face was extremely endearing, and the way Travis was describing it did not do it justice. 

“Oh my god,” choked out Martin. “Those are the best nine words I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Yours and mine both, buddy,” Griffin agreed, face flushed. 

“What about when Carly Rae Jepsen invites you on stage sometime in the future? And she uses nine words or whatever,” Travis said, crossing his arms and hmphing.

“That doesn’t count,” Griffin explained. “Because when that happens, in that moment, I will, one hundred percent physically, mentally and whatever -ally, die.” 

Basira snorted and laughed loudly, while Daisy whispered in her ear, asking who Carly Rae Jepsen was, and if she was another “podcaster” or whatever the McElroys were. 

“Anyway,” Travis said loudly, desperate to change the subject to literally anything else. “Did Griffin mention how he got his ass melted by Al Roker on the blue carpet for Margaritaville?”

“It wasn’t a solo ass melt,” Griffin protested. “It was a group ass melt. Our asses were melted”

“No, it was definitely focused on you,” Justin agreed. “We may have been caught in the spray but-”

“Wait, your ass literally got melted?” Martin asked. “By who?”

“America’s favorite morning news host Al Roker,” Travis said in one breath. “We were on the blue carpet-”

“Blue?” 

“Well it was for Margaritaville- I mean- we’re friends with Jimmy Buffet,” Justin said proudly.

“Friend is a strong word,” Griffin said quickly, over the sound of Martin and Basira’s amazement, and Daisy’s bewilderment. “I think we’re actually mortal enemies now that he sent us out on the blue carpet to fail-”

“I’m telling you, Griffin, he  _ didn’t _ send us out to fail, bu-ut if he did, it was because  _ you _ blew up on me for my very good Spotify playlist-”

“And I stand by that! I still can’t believe that you listened to that many Jimmy Buffet songs in a row-”

The sounds of the McElroys arguing and his, well, friends laughing, blended into a happy din, as Jon relaxed, closing his eyes, trying to ignore the sense of hunger he was feeling. Martin must have noticed it, though, because he walked over to Jon, holding the messenger bag he had brought from the institute.

“Brought you a snack,” Martin said quietly, trying not to draw attention to their conversation. “I don’t know if you wanted to uh- eat in the bedroom-”

“You don’t have to call it that,” Jon dismissed. “I might just- I”ll take a walk.” He stood up a little too quickly, and felt a little dizzy. Martin raised an eyebrow as Jon swayed slightly, and looked like he was about to say something, but Jon was already pulling on a coat. 

“Out for a smoke,” Jon explained to the group. Basira rolled her eyes.

“I thought you were trying to stop,” she said. Jon attempted an eye signal that said  _ I’m going outside to read/eat a statement because I’m starving _ , and Basira nodded, shooting one back that clearly said  _ I’m covering for you, moron _ . 

“Could use one after today,” Jon said, shrugging. 

“Be careful,” Justin called over his shoulder. “You still haven’t heard about how Griffin got robbed in a Gamestop.”

“Alright,” Jon chuckled quietly. He stepped out into the cold night, and let out a sigh of relief as he felt inside the messenger bag to feel the familiar sensation of a manilla file folder. He pulled out a statement with a sticky note on it, in Martin’s round handwriting.  _ Shouldn’t be too stale. Bon appetit! :P  _

Jon smiled and rubbed the words fondly. He took a cursory glance of the first page of the statement. It was about the Desolation, something about a house being burnt down because of a petty feud. He thanked Martin inwardly for giving him some variety, and started to walk and read.

* * *

“-so this year is Collaborate-Teen: Stronger Together,” Justin finished. 

“I still think we should’ve gone with Twenty-Fate-Teen,” Griffin pouted. “We haven’t really done much collaborating this year.”

“Like we zagged on them much last year?” Travis countered.

“Hey! I started doing-”

“Yes, Juice, we all know you do tae kwon do,” Griffin said reluctantly. “That’s not my pointttt.”

“Sorry, but,” Daisy interrupted, giving a meaningful glance to Martin and Basira. “Jon’s been gone for a  _ while _ .” 

“I’m no smoker,” Justin began, while Griffin choked on his drink and Travis rolled his eyes. “But I think it usually doesn’t take 25 minutes to have a smoke.” 

“We just didn’t want to bring it up,” Griffin explained. 

“I’ll go and check on him,” Martin said, standing up and pulling on his jacket quickly. “Just in case- in case he got lost or something.”

“I’ll go too,” Justin announced, groaning as he got to his feet. “I could use some fresh air.”

“You do that,” Griffin said, flopping onto his back. “These pizzas are sittin’ pretty heavy in my tummy.” Travis reached over to slap his stomach, causing Griffin to shout in indignation.

“We’ll stay here,” Basira said, an unsaid  _ and keep watch _ passing to Martin. Martin nodded and swallowed, looking at Justin, who was already opening the door. It didn’t look like there was any unsuspicious way to get Justin not to go. Hopefully, Jon really was just lost.

“Kinda breezy,” Justin said, steam coming out of his mouth as he rubbed his hands together. “Is England always like this?”

“Yeah,” Martin said, distractedly. He picked a random direction and started walking that way, hoping that Jon was there. If the statement wasn’t enough, he might’ve started talking to someone, and that might be worse than another attack-

“-Martin!” Justin’s voice broke Martin out of his worried trance. “I said, there sounds-looks- like there’s something happening over there.”

“O-oh,” Martin said, looking over to where Justin was pointing. There was an alley that was oddly darker than the other alleys.

“Are you okay?” Justin asked concernedly. “Maybe we should go back to get Basira or-”

“No time,” Martin broke into a run toward the alley. He had never seen darkness that black before, and that wasn’t a great sign. Justin jogged after him, a worried expression spreading across his face. 

Martin skidded to a halt at the alley’s opening. Just through the blackness, he could see Jon and his ugly brown sweater, squaring off against- something.

“ **I said** ” Jon’s voice boomed, the crackle of compulsion enveloping it. “ **Tell me who sent you** .” 

The thing in front of Jon, whatever it was, let out an inhuman growl, that turned into a scream, as Jon asked it again, almost shouting. “ **Who are you working for? Whose ritual is this?** ” 

The thing snarled desperately, and for a second, the darkness dropped enough for Martin to peer through the alley, and become utterly, one-hundred percent, stunned. The thing was actually a man. Although a man was probably not the best way to describe him. He had two legs and two arms, and a normal sized head, although he was massively built, and could probably rip Jon apart with his bare hands. He was only wearing blue shorts, and he had thick chains wrapped around his arms. His eyes were bright red, and the darkness in the alleyway seemed to be emanating from them. The part that stood out, however, as much as a part could, was the enormous gun, still in some sort of holster, on top of his head. Just balanced there. Swaying with him as the man swayed. Martin saw another gun poking out behind the man’s butt, and decidedly focused on the larger gun. 

“Doctor Sexgun,” Justin breathed out beside him, grabbing on to the wall for support. 

Jon whipped around at that, and spotted Martin and Justin, eyes widening. “Martin-”

“It’s time to go, Jon,” Martin said firmly. He knew immediately, that he had to stop Jon, lest- well, what happened to Peter happened again. Jon had not been great after that, and Martin did not want to deal with the aftermath again. “Now.”

“ **Ye** -yes, alright,” Jon said, the compulsion slipping out of his voice. He backed up slowly, watching Dr. Sexgun growl, too afraid at the moment to step towards them. 

“You can have your fun later,” Martin forcefully, pulling him towards them, and hustling both Jon and Justin out of the alleyway. 

“It’s not any fun,” Jon said sulkily, as the three of them burst into a run for what seemed like the millionth time that day. 

When they finally reached Martin’s door, Justin held up a finger while he tried to catch his breath. “One- minute-”

Martin waited somewhat patiently, Jon not as much so as he kept looking over his shoulder for Dr. Sexgun. 

Justin stood up straight, finally having caught his breath. “That thing you did with your voice. Did you do it on us earlier? Make us- make us do things?”

“That’s not how it works,” Jon said quickly. “I can’t make people do things, and-”

“Answer the question,” Justin said, voice firm. He looked more serious than he had the entire day, even when they were being chased by Ja’am and Succotash. “Did you?”

“Yes,” Jon answered. “It’s standard procedure for taking a statement.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that,” Justin hissed. “Don’t do that shit again, okay? Not to me, or to my brothers.”

Martin looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He had been on the receiving end once, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Jon nodded, mouth a thin line. “I understand. I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine. Extenuating circumstances and all,” Justin said, hand-waving Jon’s apology. “I get it. I’m just saying.”

“You’re right. Not again,” Jon said.

“Yeah.” Justin’s face softened. “I should thank you for keeping Dr. Sexgun frozen there though.” 

“How did you make him, anyways?” Martin asked, now that the atmosphere wasn’t as tense. “What kind of video game lets you even-”

“A soul still burnssssss,” Justin answered, in a very weird voice that was reminiscent of a lizardman’s. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, but okay.” Martin put his hand on the doorknob, pausing to look back at Justin and Jon. “We all good?”

Justin gave two thumbs up, and Jon gave a grim smile.

“Alright,” Martin said, opening the door to the warmth inside. “Let’s learn about Griffin getting robbed.” 

“And my bad credit card choices!” Justin said, excited again. 

“Wait, what?” Jon asked, following the other two into the room. “How old were you?”

“Here’s the thing-” 

The door shut as, laughter rose in the room again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i love when justin's protective streak comes out in taz so i had to put it in here!   
thanks for all your support! i wrote this one much earlier than usual so hopefully it makes more sense!!
> 
> Dr. Sexgun: https://youtu.be/gaVwTT6MiUE


	6. Not the Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew enjoy a nice morning. The McElroys do a bit of wrestling.

Jon awoke with a start, his face sweaty and flushed. He’d visited Lionel Elliot, who had crouched on the floor, terrified, as his students closed in on him, too many bones clicking and snapping into place. As always, all Jon could do was watch, frozen, from the door of the classroom.

He felt his body start to involuntarily shake, but as consciousness started to return in full force, Jon became immediately aware of a warm weight on his chest. Martin’s arm was wrapped around his torso, with his face pressed into the pillow to avoid the sunlight seeping in through the crack in the curtains. Jon touched his arm tentatively, as if he couldn’t quite believe it was there. When Martin’s arm didn’t become gaseous or burst into worms, he grabbed onto it with both spindly hands, like a sailor trapped in a hole-ridden boat at sea. 

Martin sleepily muttered something about cows, or maybe spiders, and moved his head into the crook of Jon’s shoulder. Jon turned his head so that their noses were barely touching, feeling Martin’s warm breath on his face. He felt that he could stay in this position forever, when he heard the sounds of someone on the phone floating in from the living room. 

After considering for a moment, Jon pressed a quick peck on Martin’s nose, and was pleased by the slow smile that crept across Martin’s sleeping and slightly drooling face. He gently lifted Martin’s arm off his body and slipped out of the bed. Martin frowned and made a quiet whining noise, but Jon patted his hand and moved to the living room.

When he got there, he saw Travis standing near the window, speaking softly into his cell phone. Travis smiled when he saw him, and ended his call quickly with an, “I love you.”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Jon said quietly, looking around the living room at the carnage left over from the last night’s shenanigans. Basira and Daisy were somehow both on the couch, twisted together under one of Martin’s thick woolen blankets, with Daisy’s feet sticking out the other end. Justin and Griffin were still lying on the floor. Justin was splayed out, halfway out of his blanket, while Griffin was essentially in a blanket-and-pillow fort. All that could be seen of him was a hand, which was holding his glasses. 

“Not a problem,” Travis said brightly. “I was just saying good morning to my wife.”

“My wife,” Justin muttered lazily from the floor. Travis stuck his foot in front of his face so that Justin buried his face in his pillow, groaning louder.

“Anyways,” Travis said, ignoring Justin’s pleas for mercy from his stinky socks. “Sleep alright?” 

“As alright as it could be,” Jon said offhandedly, stretching down to pick up a leftover pizza box. Travis narrowed his eyes slightly at that, but seemed to let it go, as he started stacking up greasy plates. 

“Good.” Travis neared Griffin’s pillow burrito and kicked him over, revealing Griffin’s previously-blanketed face, which was only covered in a slight sheen of sweat. 

“Travvvvvv,” Griffin whined. “I can’t wake up now, I’ve got jet lag and I’m still tired and-”

The other bundle of blankets on the floor seemed to draw energy from Griffin’s complaints like an energy siphon and all but woke up completely. Justin crawled over and, while Griffin was still griping, ripped the blankets off of him, spinning Griffin out of the bundle like a top. Travis cracked up as Griffin’s whining escalated in volume exponentially. 

“What the fuck.” Daisy sat bolt upright on the sofa, waking up Basira, who rubbed her eyes blearily and adjusted her headscarf.

“Sorry about that,” Justin panted from the floor, where he was currently trying to pin down a struggling Griffin so Travis could shove his socks in his face. “Didn’t mean to wake you up-”

Daisy threw a pillow at Travis, knocking him down to immediately get turned on by Griffin and Justin. Satisfied, she put her face back into her pillow and pretended to go back to sleep as Basira cackled beside her. 

“Looks like everyone else is up,” a sleepy voice said from the door. Martin leaned against the doorframe, eyes still half shut.

“Good morning,” chirped Travis from the floor, as much as he could with a pillow pressed over his face. “My brothers are trying to kill me.”

“Not kill,” Griffin grunted from the effort of holding Travis’ arms down. “Horribly, horribly maim.”

“Good to hear it,” Martin smiled drowsily. “Tea?”

“I’ll help you prepare some,” Jon said, carrying a precariously tall stack of cheese-stained plates into the kitchen, being careful to step over Basira’s arm, which was inching over to a pillow destined to be thrown at someone’s face. 

Once seven cups of tea of varying qualities had been prepared (Jon was only allowed to prepare tea for the Americans, since Martin had said that they “wouldn’t be able to tell the difference”), the group huddled in the living room, trying to figure out their next move. 

“He won’t be any help,” Daisy said firmly, while Martin nodded in agreement. “When has Elias ever done anything mildly useful?”

“Elias isn’t useful, but you can’t deny that he knows more than us when it comes to things like this,” Basira argued. 

“I mean, we also  _ just _ found out that he was working with Peter Lukas all along,  _ and  _ he could’ve escaped at any time,” Martin said, counting the points on his fingers. 

_ Escaped? _ Mouthed Travis at Justin, who shrugged casually, taking another sip of his tea. Griffin watched the conversation with his eyes wide, following it like a ping-pong match. 

“Listen,” Jon said, rubbing his temples. “We need some answers,  _ anything _ to help us figure out what the  _ hell _ is going on, so-”

“So we go to the least reliable person we know,” Martin said bitterly.

“Do you have a better idea?” Basira started to snap back, but was interrupted by Griffin raising his hand, as if he was in class.

“I’m sure I- we don’t know everything about what’s goin’ on here,” Griffin said, batting away Justin and Travis’ hands that were trying to shut him up. “Butttt, why don’t we just talk to this Elliot guy-”

“Elias, Griff shut up-”

“-And just decide then what to do?” Griffin finished, now attempting to pin Travis to the ground.

The archive crew paused for a second, ignoring Justin’s attempt to chastise Griffin with his eyes and only his eyes. 

“I mean,” Daisy began, trailing off.

“It’s worth a try,” Martin said, finally deciding to meet Jon’s eyes with a moderately-steely gaze. “But if anything goes wrong-”

“I know, we’ll leave,” Jon said.

“I’ll kill him.” 

Simultaneously around the room, Jon’s jaw dropped, Martin clenched his teeth, Daisy raised an eyebrow, and Basira sighed heavily. The McElroys looked generally unsure of how to react until-

“Well, I call the bathroom first!” Travis called, jumping up and almost-sprinting to the one bathroom in the apartment. 

Griffin and Justin looked at each other before muttering some half-excuses and went to “get ready too”, which Jon Knew meant “get out of this room by any means necessary”. 

“What about only killing one avatar per month?” Basira said, standing and stretching her arms above her head, yawning slightly. “Y’know, pace yourself. We can’t all be Gertrude.”

“Soon you guys will be worse than us,” Daisy said, smiling a smile with too many and too sharp teeth.

* * *

By the time the McElroys had all been wrangled into non-Corruption and Flesh stained clothes (Griffin had to wear one of Jon’s spare shirts, which Jon had made very clear he did not want back), it was already early afternoon. Martin had called ahead to Rosie, who had told them that Elias was “not  _ currently  _ in, but was sure to be back,  _ eventually _ ”, and had split up the group. Basira and Daisy went hunting for Elias, who they were convinced was in hiding, while the McElroys, Jon, and Martin went back to the Archives, both to keep the McElroys safe and to wait out Elias. 

Griffin, Travis, and Martin went ahead in the first taxi, leaving Jon and Justin to wait for the next taxi. They sat on the doorstep to Martin’s flat, Jon nervously checking his watch every minute. After a few minutes set steeping in the silence, Jon stammered, “About last night-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Justin said, resolutely staring ahead. “I’ve already forgotten.” A few more seconds of silence passed, before Justin relented, turning to Jon with a small smile on his face. “You gotta do what you gotta do, right?”

“O-of course,” Jon said, returning with a smile that might have been slightly too big for his pinched face. 

“So, to completely pivot away from this subject,” Justin said, stretching his arms out above him and groaning slightly. “Who’s this Elias y’all were speaking of?”

“Wellllll,” Jon began, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly. “I guess you could call him our ex-boss?” 

“That doesn’t seem too bad-”

“That framed me for murder, sent Basira on several wild goose chases, and worked with Peter Lukas to threaten Martin.”

“Ah. That’s probably the definition of bad.” Justin chuckled lowly and paused. “Is he- you know-” he wiggled his fingers as if he were trying to flick off flies in the gentlest way possible “magic?”

Jon let out a sharp laugh. “Are you asking if he’s connected to the entities? Elias is connected to the Beholding- like me. But, he’s-” 

“Bad.” 

“Yeah, pretty succinctly put.” 

The taxi pulled up to the curb, the driver already impatiently laying on the horn. 

“Alright, alright,” Justin groaned, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and helping Jon up off the ground. “Let’s go talk to this dickhead.”

* * *

“He’s not here,” Rosie said, leaning back in her chair and filing her nails. 

“Yes, you’ve told us this,” Jon said exasperatedly. Martin shifted behind him as if he wanted to say something, but Jon held out his hand and grasped Martin’s. “We just need to get into his office.”

“To wait for him, because if he doesn’t get back here-” Martin growled under his breath.

“We just need to get in.” Jon smiled what he thought was a winning, genuine smile. Rosie recoiled slightly. 

“And we need to give another statement,” Griffin interrupted, moving in front of Jon to cover his face and the dangerous smile. “Cause we got, uhhh, chased?”

“By a rat!” Travis said happily.

“A rat person,” Justin added. “With real big ears-”

“And also a-a- a thing with um- how would you describe Ja’am-”

“He’s got a big ol’ backpack for his apple-”

“How is his backpack the first thing you think of, Griffin- he’s got two damn faces-”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m not as fuckin’ pedestrian as you peasants, and- and it’s a goddamn meme-”

“Look at meme king on his throne over here, you’re so plugged into the kids-”

“Please don’t say you’re plugged into the kids, I’m fuckin’ begging y’all-”

Rosie leaned back even further in her chair, as if she was trying to physically fling herself out of the room. She pressed a button on her desk that slowly opened the door to Elias’ office. “Whatever,” she said nonchalantly, going back to filing her nails. “It’s your funeral.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” muttered Martin. 

“Thank you,” Jon said, squeezing Martin’s hand. “We appreciate it, Rosie.” He Saw Martin and Rosie both resist a simultaneous urge to flip each other off, and herded the group into Elias’ office.

Elias’ office was both more decorated and barer than he had expected. While there were no pictures of Elias or any possible family in the office, there was an old, fading picture of an old docked ship. No one was standing in front of it, but on the bow of the ship, Jon thought he could just make out-

“Look at this!” Travis said excitedly, pulling a thin pamphlet from under some papers on Elias’ desk. “No one told me your boss was into WWE.”

“Don’t touch that!” Jon said nervously. “We don’t know what that might be-”

“Wait a minute,” Travis was already flipping through the pamphlet, looking confused. “This isn’t the Rock.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Justin said, striding over to grab the pamphlet. “He said not to touch- wait a minute.” Justin crinkled his eyes and brought the paper closer to his face. “That’s not-”

A sound that could only be described as the grinding of rocks in a giant’s mouth boomed out over Justin’s sentence. Startled, Jon grabbed onto the desk to steady himself, as Martin ripped the pamphlet out of Justin’s hand and dashed it on the floor. Two concentric circles appeared in the gaudy rug in the center of the room, around the pamphlet. The ground seemed to ripple outwards from the circles, as the group huddled in a corner as far away from the circles as possible. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, a Leitner wrestling ad?” Martin shouted over the noise.

“What’s a Leitner?” Griffin yelled back, grasping onto the bookcase as if it were the only thing keeping it upright (which it was). “And why was it on his desk?”

“He knew we were coming here,” Jon gasped. “Which means-”

The speaker on Elias’ desk phone crackled to life, and a deep but tinny voice rang out of it. It sounded unmistakably like any generic sports announcer on any generic sports channel. “In the left cornerrrrrrr,” it boomed. “We haveeeee- Christopher Christopher Christopher Christopher!” 

A hand pushed itself out of the carpet, followed by a leather sleeve, and then a leather jacket, as a creature Jon could only describe as “not the Rock” crawled out of the ground. The Rock’s normal-sized head was attached to an hourglass body that took the word hourglass way too seriously. His arms hung limply down to his shins, which also protruded in much the way shins should not protrude. His legs were only about half the length of his messed-up torso, and shook slightly with the weight of his upper half. Once Christopher Christopher Christopher Christopher had emerged, he braced himself in the horse stance, and bared his teeth that weren’t teeth at the group. 

“In the right cornerrrrrr,” the speaker yelled. “Please welcomeeeeee- Arby “The Meathead” McDonald!” 

Another hand stretched out of the carpet, more wrinkled and leathery and furry than “the Rock’s”. The man that yanked himself out of the ground had light purple hair that draped down to his shoulders, a purple mustache, and was wearing what Jon could only describe as an “80’s wizard shirt”. Only an 80’s wizard shirt. Jon did not want to Know what his lower half contained, and pointedly looked away. Arby “The Meathead” McDonald, looked at the group and grinned, revealing a mouth that only had a solitary tooth. 

_ What the fuck _ , Jon mouthed at Martin, who mouthed back,  _ You’d know better than me _ . The McElroy’s stood, frozen in the corner of the room, when Griffin broke the silence. 

“Maybe we should-”

“Begin!” the speaker cried, and the room burst into action.

Christopher Christopher Christopher Christopher swan dived toward Griffin, grabbing onto his ankles. The second his hands wrapped around Griffin, the ground started to open up beneath him again, slowly swallowing him, and by extension, Griffin. Griffin sank to the ground in surprise, and struggled to stand up. Martin grabbed onto Griffin’s hands and started to pull, when he was tackled by Arby “The Meathead” McDonald, who began to press him into the ground. 

“Fuck!” Justin said, as he kicked Arby “The Meathead” McDonald in the sides repeatedly. “I wasn’t fuckin’ prepared to do any physical activity today-”

“We got chased like a hundred times yesterday, and you weren’t prepared for today?” Travis gasped, as he latched onto Griffin’s waist and tried to hoist him out of Christopher Christopher Christopher Christopher’s reach. Jon rushed behind him to try and steady him. 

“Lift with your legs, lift with your legs!” Griffin squeaked out, the air leaving his lungs. 

“Shut up, shut up,” Travis growled back, closing his eyes and pulling harder. “Unless you want me to let go-”

“You’re going to lose a third of your goddamn income if you let go,” Justin shouted over. “Don’t forget about our trip to Disneyworld-”

“I fuckin’ hate you guys,” Griffin snapped, trying futilely to kick his legs, and panicking when he noticed that his shoes were under the floor. 

“This isn’t working,” Martin panted, as his body started to sink into the floor. “We need to-”

“You need a door.” 

Jon and Martin snapped their attention to the direction the voice had come from- the corner they had been hiding in. An unassuming wooden door had appeared on one of the blank walls, and had swung open to reveal a curly-haired woman. Curls seemed to distort and change the longer Jon looked at them. She waved at him with hands that were too long, too bony, and just too everything. “Hello, Jon.”

Despite what she had said, Jon felt himself break out into another cold sweat. A double cold sweat. “Helen, please-”

“Don’t worry, Jon,” Helen said, in a voice that sounded like broken glass. “I’m here to help.” She chuckled and tapped her fingers against the doorframe. Griffin and Martin were both simultaneously on top of a door and then not there anymore. Jon looked at Helen with confusion and despair, but she smiled and pointed into the hallway she was standing in front of. “After you.”

Jon didn’t take a second to ponder, instead grabbing Travis and Justin, who were still stunned from the disappearances, and pulling them into the hallway. Christopher Christopher Christopher Christopher and Arby “The Meathead” McDonald lunged at them, but Helen laughed again, and the door shut in their faces. 

Another door in the long hallway opened, and before Jon could prepare himself, a very dizzy-looking Griffin and Martin stumbled out. “God,” Griffin said, holding on to the wall and Martin to steady himself. “Is that something I’m gonna have to get used to?”

“Hopefully not,” Helen said brightly. “You’ll never see me again after this.”

“After… what?” Martin asked cautiously, still grasping tightly onto Griffin’s sleeve to prevent him from collapsing. 

Helen rolled her eyes, which took a bit too long as they seemed to rattle around in their eyesockets. Griffin groaned and looked like he was going to hurl again, and Martin patted him sympathetically on the back. 

“I need your help,” Helen smiled widely, her eyes almost cruel. She tapped her fingers on the wall again, and the hallway shifted, causing the group to press their backs into the walls.

A new door creaked open in front of them, revealing a tall blond man with too-long arms and a face that looked like it was sculpted from dripping wax. The man turned when he saw them, revealing that he looked- 

“Just like Bart,” Griffin breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with the long update time!! it's not even that life got busy i just started playing league again lol  
i do love writing this!! hopefully the next chapter won't take me as long LOL
> 
> Christopher Christopher Christopher Christopher (i know it's not his real name but i just love typing it out): https://youtu.be/V5PlKZRQVgQ
> 
> Arby "The Meathead" McDonald: https://youtu.be/8A8h-yhDRfU


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